


oh simple thing, where have you gone

by santello (songaboutlove)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower Route, Falling In Love, M/M, ends right before timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-23 22:54:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21328018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songaboutlove/pseuds/santello
Summary: “We can’t all be like you, Sylvain,” Felix says. “Falling in love left and right.”“You’re wrong,” Sylvain says with conviction, sitting up. “If I were really in love, you’d know it for sure.”
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 212





	oh simple thing, where have you gone

**Author's Note:**

> as the tags specify this is set in crimson flower (though not really mentioned until the end section because i couldn't figure out how to mention it organically)

“Hey, Felix,” Sylvain says. “You ever been in love?”

Felix lifts his head to frown at him. They’re reviewing formations for the upcoming mock battle in Felix’s room, Felix sitting cross-legged on the floor and Sylvain sprawled out across his bed.

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know,” Sylvain sighs, head falling back onto the pillow as he drops the map he’s been staring blankly at for the past half hour into his lap. “I’m bored. This is boring work.”

“You will never be a good knight if you don’t get used to this kind of work,” Felix chastises.

“This is what I have _you_ for, though,” Sylvain points out, turning his head to look at Felix. They’ve been friends for most of their lives, and it feels like Felix hasn’t changed a bit since they were children. For one thing, the exasperation on his face right now is exactly the same as it’s always been. “You’re the brains and I’m the brawn. You know that.”

Felix just sighs and shakes his head, looking back down at the papers on the floor. “You’d get yourself killed almost immediately if I wasn’t around, I think.”

“Probably true,” Sylvain says, grinning and turning onto his side to face Felix fully. He props his head up on his hand. “But you haven’t answered my first question.”

“Which was?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“That depends,” Felix says dryly, scribbling notes onto a piece of paper. “Do you mean love in the traditional sense, or love as in ‘oh, Felix, I really think they might be the one, will you _please_ check if they’re single for me’?”

“Either,” Sylvain responds cheerfully.

“Ah,” Felix says. “No.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Sylvain complains, and Felix looks back up at him.

“We can’t all be like you, Sylvain,” he says, sticking his pen behind his ear. “Falling in love left and right.”

Sylvain frowns. He’s been on the receiving end of plenty of Felix’s snide comments and he usually takes them all in stride, but for some reason, this particular one has an effect on him. “Is that what you think of me?”

“What else am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t fall in love with everyone I try to woo,” Sylvain protests, prompting Felix to raise a skeptical eyebrow.

“It sure seems like it.”

“You’re wrong,” Sylvain says with conviction, sitting up. “If I were really in love, you’d know it for sure.”

To his surprise, Felix actually smiles at that, now regarding Sylvain with mild interest. “So all this gallivanting around and asking every person who catches your eye to dinner, that’s…?”

“It’s just… games,” Sylvain insists, sliding off the bed and onto the floor to sit opposite Felix. “The matter of the fact is that everyone I’ve ever been with has always ended up just wanting me for my Crest, or my nobility. Nobody ever sees me for _me_.”

“Hmm,” Felix says, still smiling as he reaches over to take the long-forgotten map from Sylvain’s lap. “Well, for what it’s worth, _I_ see you for you, and it’s not much to write home about.”

Sylvain laughs and swats at Felix’s hand. Felix rolls his eyes and Sylvain falls in love right then and there.

Okay, so he doesn’t realize it _right_ away. In his defense, Felix has been just his friend for so long that it takes him a little while to recognize that the feelings he holds for him have been thrown off-kilter. It finally dawns on him when they’re sparring in the training grounds one day and Felix, as usual, knocks him to the ground and points the tip of his sword at his neck.

“You really should take your training more seriously,” Felix says, the faintest sheen of sweat on his forehead. Sylvain lifts his head and gazes up at Felix’s stern face, framed by blue sky and the golden light of the early afternoon, his hair beginning to come loose from where he’s tied it up.

He’s beautiful. Sylvain’s heartbeat quickens. It’s awful.

“Oh, no,” Sylvain mutters, half to himself.

“What?” Felix says, brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” Sylvain says hurriedly, pushing Felix’s sword aside so he can get up. “I just – whew. You really wore me out.”

Felix scoffs at that, but his gaze softens a little as he holds his hand out to help Sylvain up, a simple act that sends Sylvain’s heart reeling again. He takes Felix’s hand and feels his body flooded with a warmth so unfamiliar and so all-consuming that it frightens him.

_Oh, no, _Sylvain thinks again.

Sylvain finds Felix in the Goddess Tower on the night of the ball. It’s been a welcome reprieve from everything that’s been happening around the monastery lately – a night of dancing and fun and fancy dress. Everything that’s important to Sylvain, really.

Well, almost everything. The last thing is standing right in front of him, staring up at the sky. Felix turns when he hears Sylvain come up the stairs.

“Oh, it’s you,” Felix says, putting his hands on his hips. “What are you doing here? I should think you of all people would never want to leave the ball.”

Sylvain shrugs. “Sometimes the noise can get to be a bit much.”

Felix nods slowly, taking a few steps forward. His dark eyes are glittering in the dim moonlight.

“Be honest,” Felix says. “Did you only come up here in the hopes of meeting a girl and wooing her with that nonsensical legend about the Goddess Tower?”

“No, no, none of that,” Sylvain says, waving his hand (even though it is a little true). “I just needed to get away.”

Feeling emboldened all of a sudden, he adds: “It’s not much of a party without you there, anyway.”

For a moment, Felix looks surprised, at a loss for words – a rare sight. Sylvain can’t help the affectionate smile that tugs at his lips as Felix quickly finds his composure again, straightening his back and clearing his throat.

“If you’re making fun of me –”

“I’m not,” Sylvain insists, and his heart aches in his chest at the enormity of things that he wishes he could make Felix understand. “It’s strange, but… I always seem to have more fun when you’re around. Maybe something’s wrong with me.”

“Definitely, something’s wrong with you,” Felix says, but he ducks his head, looking like he’s trying to hide a smile.

Sylvain looks at him and thinks about how Goddess Tower is a place where lovers meet. He’s dreamed about being here, with the right person – and he knows then, for sure, that he’s never been in love before. Not if being in love is like this. He’s never felt like _this. _Like he’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, terrified and exhilarated at the prospect of falling.

The goddess must be smiling upon him and granting him courage tonight because he steps forward and says, “Hey – you know that legend you mentioned before? Since we’re both here, you wanna say a prayer to the goddess?”

Felix eyes him suspiciously. “The legend says that it’ll only work with a man and a woman.”

Sylvain saunters up to Felix’s side and nudges his shoulder with his own. “Pshh. Details! I’m sure she doesn’t care about that part.”

“Of course, now you’re pretending you understand the whims of the goddess,” Felix says dismissively, but he stands next to Sylvain and stares out at the view overlooking the monastery anyway. There’s a moment of comfortable silence before he speaks again: “What shall we pray for?”

Sylvain’s heart skips a beat. “You mean you want to do it?”

“Yes,” Felix says. “Now think of something before I change my mind.”

Sylvain doesn’t have to think very long. “We should pray that we both live a long time.”

“That’s not very creative.”

“Whoever said that prayers had to be creative?” Sylvain says, beaming up at the stars. “When we were children we promised that we’d die together. I intend to keep that promise, but still, I hope that day will come a long, long time from now.”

Felix is silent for a moment. “I thought you might have forgotten about that.”

“I never would.”

“You’ve changed,” Felix mutters. “I didn’t think you the type to care about childhood promises.”

Sylvain looks over at him. “I don’t think I’ve changed. Just grown.”

“Hm,” Felix says, looking back. His eyes are still so bright even in the darkness. “I suppose we both have.”

Unable to resist, Sylvain reaches out and takes Felix’s hand. Felix stares down at their entangled fingers, looking like he’s struggling with something, but he lets Sylvain hold his hand until the sounds of the ball call them back inside.

During the attack on the Holy Tomb, Sylvain is approached by a very intense-looking Hubert, who snarls: “Well?”

“Well, what?” Sylvain says. He's somewhat distracted by the gigantic Demonic Beast that Lady Rhea has transformed into, which he thinks is fairly understandable. “Get us out of here!”

“So you will ally with us?” Hubert says, giving him a cold once-over.

“Yeah, yes, I swear I won’t turn on Lady Edelgard and all that, Hubert, I’m serious,” Sylvain says frantically. “Now please, do your magic - thingy - I would rather not die here!”

Hubert waves his hand and Sylvain finds himself in the provisional camp that acts as the Imperial army’s temporary base. After he gets his bearings back – jeez, being warped is _weird_ – his first instinct is to look for Felix. He doesn’t even want to entertain the idea of Felix not being on the same side as him.

He weaves through the crowd of Imperial soldiers and uncertain students to find, thank the stars, Felix sitting against a wall and nursing a wound on his leg, wincing as he tries to patch it up himself.

“Felix,” Sylvain says, falling to his knees with a sigh of relief. “Is it bad?”

“No, I’m fine,” Felix says, waving him off but clearly having trouble tying the bandage under his leg. Sylvain sees that his fingers are shaking and wordlessly swats his hands away, gently taking over and helping him cover his injury with gauze.

“Th – thanks,” Felix mutters, eyes trained on Sylvain’s hands. “I’m no good at this stuff. I couldn’t find Mercedes, and everything is so hectic…”

Sylvain pauses for a second, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I don’t think Mercedes is coming.”

“Oh,” says Felix. “I suppose that was to be expected.”

They sit in silence as Sylvain works. He can tell that both of them are thinking about the same thing, about the weight of what they’ve just done – turning on their homeland, their families, their friends, to stand with the Empire. He thinks of what it was like to watch his brother bleed out in front of him, and how he’s going to have to get used to watching the ones he loves die, perhaps even by his own hand. The thought of it frightens him.

Still, Sylvain knows that, despite all the heartbreak there is yet to come, despite how scared he is of everything he has yet to face, this is the right decision. It’s foolish, perhaps, but Edelgard’s ideals, Edelgard’s conviction – he feels that he’s never believed in anything as much as she believes in this. A world free of Crests, free of nobility – the things that he’s felt trapped by his whole life – doesn’t sound half bad. And here she is, promising to create it. 

Who is he to say no to that?

“Done,” Sylvain says as he ties the bandage up. “Hopefully I did it right. I sure wish I had a talent for healing magic…”

“You think we made the right choice?” Felix says abruptly. Sylvain looks at his face and sees, for the first time, uncertainty and apprehension. Felix is usually so self-assured, but right now – he looks almost vulnerable. Maybe it’s the blood loss.

“I’m sure I did,” Sylvain says. “If you’re seriously having doubts, though, maybe you should leave while you still can, before Hubert buries you alive.”

Felix shakes his head. “No, you’re right. This is where I belong. It’s time for me to cut my own path.”

“Oh, good,” Sylvain says, smiling in relief. “The knowledge that I’d have to fight against you might kill me before you did.”

Felix laughs quietly, in disbelief, which Sylvain finds odd, because Felix seldom laughs under normal circumstances – much less after they’ve just defected from their country and are now in the middle of preparations to launch an attack on the archbishop of the Church. Pretty grim circumstances, to put it lightly.

“Sylvain,” he says, and his voice is different, somehow. No longer rough around the edges. “Do you remember when you told me… that I’d know it for sure, if you were really in love?”

Sylvain holds his gaze, feels suddenly suffocated with terror and blind, foolish hope. “Yeah.”

Felix reaches up and grabs Sylvain by the collar, bringing his face down to his own. His breath is so warm and his eyes so soft. “Well, I know.”

Sylvain can't breathe. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Felix says, and kisses him. All of a sudden Sylvain isn't afraid anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I am just sitting here  
ignoring the fact that their non-BL ending is incredibly sad


End file.
